


Music To My Ears

by Cyberthecipher



Series: Charlie at Teufort: Surviving the Robots [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Charlie has insomnia and loves Spy, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentions of some spicy stuff but no explicit stuff, Music, Yearning, mentions of some other characters but not important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24713809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberthecipher/pseuds/Cyberthecipher
Summary: Charlie usually has trouble falling asleep and will stay up until the witching hour until he passes out from exhaustion.One night Charlie hears something that changes his destructive routine entirely.
Relationships: BLU Spy/Original Character(s)
Series: Charlie at Teufort: Surviving the Robots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786813
Kudos: 4





	Music To My Ears

**Author's Note:**

> Charlie is my TF2 self insert OC that I haven't flushed out fully but just know that I put Charlie in after the fall of the two teams and at the start of the robot war. Charlie is technically part of the "red" (because I will always be a red loyalist), but loves the blue spy (because I also love the blue spy).

When the nights seemed to go on forever and the little clock on the side of his bed went from 1 am to 2 am to 3am Charlie Sterling knew he would not be getting any sleep any time soon. It usually started out with a nightly routine at 9, to finishing up tidying his room, to getting in bed and pulling the covers over his head. When he finally realized that nothing would help him fall asleep (not his radio, or his fantasies, or his medicine, or his lavender oil) he would begrudgingly get out of bed and find something productive to do. 

Sometimes he would tinker with the old supplies the engineer had gifted him. Or strum his guitar to see if inspiration would hit him. Or take his collection of art supplies and use his hands to create. Maybe read a book. Either way it was better than doing nothing and getting bored in bed. 

He never did go outside his room during these times, as to not bug the other mercs who were trying to sleep. Sometimes he opened the small window by his bed and peered out into the night with his radio going, getting lost in the night sky and trying to think of names for the stars. 

But lately something has been disrupting his nights when he couldn’t sleep. The unmistakable but soft sound of jazz music would filter through the vents and into the air. It would surround his room. And not that he didn't mind it, it would just be nice to know the source. 

Charlie had an inkling that it was the Spy. He would be the only one to listen to such music (besides Sniper and Heavy, but Heavy’s room was too far away to create such a prominent sound and Sniper slept in his van). The idea that it was Spy was cemented in place when Charlie realized that Spy’s smoke room sat right above Charlie's own room. 

When Charlie got it through his head that it was Spy he began to pay more attention to the music. Spy would start at about 10-11, never a set time but always in that time frame. He would play soft jazz, it was always in french, and from time to time Charlie swore he heard another voice singing along. 

So the music was another quirk to Spy’s personality. It was a pretty nice quirk to have since Charlie’s taste in music wasn't set in stone. He would listen and play about anything and could listen to Travis sing sea shanties or Dell play his guitar and still have a good time. Plus the jazz was soothing. But the music had Charlie thinking about Spy’s other little quirks. Like the way he arched his left eyebrow so high you could see it under the mask, or the small chip in his left front tooth probably from eating popcorn kernels during movie night, or the way his cologne smelled like fresh earth and a little but of musk, or he will secretly fall asleep on the roof while watching the sunset (and Charlie definitely doesn't sit to watch two beautiful views at once). 

It was never mentioned at the table, or when the team was together in the recreation room. Spy and Charlie passed glances on the battlefield and nodded their understanding when one had an idea that others had thought of. But that was nothing more than war strategy. 

If anything Spy hated Charlie and tolerated him enough for the sake of the team much like the Scout. Maybe it was a general distaste for young people or maybe it was something about Charlie's personality that set him off. 

But truth be told Spy was not a people person when he wasn't on the job. Being suave and smooth was his job when he needed to be, but in the confines of the Fort he didn't need to be anything but a rotten backstabbing merc. 

Still Charlie was either too dense or too head over heels to get it through his head that Spy didn’t like him. Certainly wouldn't like him like THAT, let alone as an equal or a friend. 

It was like a dirty little secret for Charlie to enjoy the music in the late hours of the night. To actually fall asleep with his head filled with the Spy and the sound of soft jazz. Or the nights when he really couldn’t sleep, when he didn't use his radio and instead let the sound of whatever french singer Spy was listening to that night to surround him. To encase him while he painted, or strummed along, or hummed while he read a book. 

It had only been about two days but Charlie was still enjoying the music and honestly he could probably enjoy it forever. 

It felt wrong to enjoy the music. Like he was eavesdropping in on something private and personal. This music could all be just for Spy and Charlie was just an unfortunate side effect. 

These doubts didnt stop the thoughts of Spy and they certainly didn’t stop Charlie from enjoying the music. Sometimes he would even catch himself humming one of the tunes while helping Medic wash dishes, or walking from one end of the fort to the other. Like a dangerous game to play if he wasn't caught fast enough and had to explain why he knew all the lyrics to “La Vie en Rose'' so well. 

Sometimes he would indulge himself and let his mind wonder. To real and meaningful thoughts of the Spy. To imagine him the few times Charlie had seen him without his mask. To think that maybe he has soft lips. Would the crook of his neck smell like his cologne or would it smell raw and open, would it smell like the Spy and nothing more. To think that the Spy might enjoy his company and might enjoy being around him. 

The few times that Charlie caught the Spy felt exhilarating to him. Like dodging a bullet or backstab. It was such an exhilarating rush of adrenaline to see the Spy enjoying a conversation he was having with Charlie. Or even laughing at one of his jokes. The rush that Charlie got when the Spy sat next to him, or when there were no seats left so Charlie sat next to Spy at the dinner table (Charlie was sure that at least Pyro and Medic had caught on and tried everything to get Spy and Charlie to sit together under any circumstance). When Spy would sit down at the poker table and ask Charley for a game of cards and Charlie had to show him the joys of American Card games (Being from Indiana it was basically a cardinal sin if you didn't know how to play Euchre coming out of the womb). 

His smile could brighten Charlie’s day and seeing him crack a smile even if it wasn't directly at him made Charlie feel warm and bright until nightfall. 

When it would hit him full force again by the sound of soft jazz. 

This would be the 14th day of Spy playing music while Charlie listened in. Two whole weeks of self doubt and crippling anxiety only to be matched with pure bliss when Spy looked at him. Charlie let his thoughts drift for a moment, almost until midnight, when he felt he had collected himself enough to make a rash decision. To go up and talk to the Spy. 

Part of him felt like talking to Spy would end in a bad way. What if Spy stopped playing the music and Charlie went back to being lonely at night. What if Spy was disgusted that Charlie had been listening in on him. What if Spy kicked him for coming to his room so late at night. 

But still part of Charlie pointed to all the good signs. Like his growing relationship with the Spy and the fact that the sudden music didn't seem like such a coincidence. 

But was his curiosity really worth such a fragile relationship. 

Charlie decided that “yes it was” and wrapped himself in his soft grey blanket, white slippers, and glasses and headed out his door towards the staircase at the end of the hall that would lead to the third level where the smoke room was. 

Really that was Spy’s room but it was the most lavish. The one time Charlie had been in there was when Medic had shown him around the fort and pointed out Spy’s room. With a massive brick fireplace and book shelves lined with row upon row of expensive first editions If Charlie was honest with himself he would've loved to get his hands on some of those. Spy had alcohol and liquor stacked to the nines in his room and he classified them by date, type, size, shape, all in prim and proper condition. Charlie vaguely remembered seeing a record player but had no memory of a record collection. 

Spy’s room really was a reflection of the man, big, lavish, and always wanting for more, but holding secrets. Terrible dark ones at that. 

Charlie didn’t think about that as he headed for the door to Spy’s room. As he got closer he felt and smelled the familiar clove cigarettes that the Spy so favoured. They hung in the air surrounding Spy’s room and made it a little denser but not enough to upset Charlie. If anything it was comforting, since it was really the only cigarette smell he could tolerate. They smelled much like Spy himself, earthy but with a hint of spice. 

But more than anything the music was louder as he got closer. He would really hear the depth of the voice and the tremor of her notes with all the passion she let out in her music. It made him stop to reconsider ‘what am i doing?’ but for only a moment. Because in the next his feet were moving once more. 

When he finally came to the door, a dark mahogany hulking door with a massive bronze gold plated handle, he reached his hand to knock but stopped himself. 

Letting out a breath he went to knock again but stopped himself. Anxiety suddenly clouding his mind at his rash last minute decision. 

For the third time he raised his hand trying to tell himself ‘fuck it life is short’ when suddenly the music stopped and the door opened on it’s own. And in the frame stood the Spy himself in all his glory. 

“You know it’s rude to just stand outside other people's doors.” he spoke softly. Charlie didn't know what to say, or what to do. He tried to stammer out a response but he got nothing so instead he casted his eyes downward and looked to the floor hoping Spy would have some mercy on him. 

Charlie got his wish in the form of Spy setting to the side and ushering him into the room. Charlie glanced up with wide eyes and quickly stepped inside allowing Spy to close the door behind him. He stood in the middle of the room watching Spy as he leaned against the door idly smoking the cigarette between his fingers. He wasn’t wearing his gloves and his coat and vest had been put up somewhere, but the mask was there like it always was. The look was undeniably hot. 

“It only took you two week.” Spy casually flicked his cigarette while Charlie starred on in bizarre confusion. 

Did that mean that Spy knew he was listening in? Did Spy want him to listen in? Why would Spy play music just for Charlie? Was it just for Charlie? 

“Stop that.” Spy chastised him with a firm tone before stepping closer, not enough to invade his personal space, but just enough to feel more than friendly. “I. Can practically hear your thoughts racing a mile a minute. You're just like Medic with a mind without an off switch. I've seen you when you overthink. I’ve seen you when something blows up in your face metaphorical or literally and you try to hold it all in. I see your mind racing with itself at high speeds at the dinner table. You are unable to turn yourself off.” 

Charlie blinked back at Spy, mouth open in utter shock. The fact that he had figured him out so well amazed him. 

Spy let out a huff and backed away from Charlie moving over to his liquor collection instead.” You want a drink?” He demanded more than asked. 

Charlie hesitated. “I would hate to make a dent in your collection.” 

Spy waved him off grabbing a bottle of dark wine and pouring himself a glass. “It is there to be drunk.” 

Charlie nodded and walked over next to spy surveying the collection. The bourbon was to the left next to the whiskey and Charlie made sure to pick one that looked as cheap as possible. “Two ice cubes please.” He said handing the bottle to Spy. 

Spy raised his eyebrow (the left one of course) when Charlie handed off the bottle and went into the cabinet to find a glass for the bourbon. “I didn't, how they say ‘peg you’, for a bourbon man. Or really anything stronger than cheap beer.” 

Charlie chuckled as Spy poured his drink. “I get that a lot. I prefer bourbon because it’s strong- a little more please- but I just like the taste. Earthy and manly. I have my own bottle in my room and sometimes I'll drink a little for special occasions.” Those special occasions including getting so sad Charlie could barely get out of bed, or feeling so worthless he had to distract himself from his thoughts. But that's another story for another time. “I usually don't drink it at night because it makes me sleepy but I wake up with a terrible headache, but I'll make an exception for you Spy.” 

Spy smiled at that and took his own glass to a seat next to the fireplace. Spy took the one on the left and ushered for Charlie to take the one on the right. Charlie sat down and instantly felt the warmth of the fire, coupled with the burn of the bourbon down his throat. He felt at peace for once. 

But that didn’t stop his thoughts. He was in Spy’s room, sharing a drink with Spy, sitting next to him almost like a buddy. And Spy had him down, he had pinpointed him so precisely it hurt a little to know that Charlie was so open. He tried to speak but words failed him and he looked up at Spy hoping for some relief from the awkward tension that had settled. 

Spy offered that relief with a nod and took a dainty sip before speaking. “For about a month I would hear sounds below me at ungodly hours of the night. I thought nothing of it until one night I heard the unmistakable sound of voice with the clanging and banging of things around a room. Your voice. You talk to yourself a lot and rather loudly. I can only assume I started hearing it recently because you have been somewhat agitated while you talked and you sounded like you needed to calm down.” Charlie looked away feeling guilty. 

“I’m to have woken you. I should’ve stayed more quiet. That’s why I don't leave my room when I can't sleep so I don't disturb anyone else.” Charlie took a fair sip of his bourbon and tried to turn his face to hide the shame burning up his cheeks. 

Spy smiled and waved his hand. “On the contrary I found it rather endearing. Much like you I find myself awake late into the night and you were disturbing me in no such way. I like to listen to music, it calms me when I try to sleep so that’s when an idea struck me. I turned my music up so that you could hear it. Hoping that that would offer some respite.” Charlie stared in awe at the suited man before him. 

A man that only thought of himself on the battlefield. A man that dismissed most team activities. A man that would rather slit his own throat than admit that he had feelings. This man was trying to help Charlie and from the looks of it he genuinely cared. 

“But why?” Charlie wanted to know what propelled this man to do the things that he had been doing. Being so nice to Charlie all of a sudden, taking an interest in conversations. 

Spy chuckled a little and looked to the fireplace. “For all my secrets, mon ami, I think the most important thing that I will be open about is my team. I do not care to talk of my feelings but if someone were to ask me I would say I do care for my team. But no one ever does ask me.” Spy shrugged at that and it hit Charlie that no one did really ask the Spy anything. He was already shrouded in so much mystery it was safe to assume that he would never reveal anything about himself. Charlie never thought that he would care for his team. Spy continued. “Where do you think Pyro gets the Japanese magazines he so enjoys? Maybe tomatoes and lettuce for heavy’s sandwiches? The appalling and disgusting soda that Scout so loves? I try to import all these things and I do it for my team. They would not have these things otherwise.” 

Charlie took another sip and stared at the Spy trying to figure him. He seemed genuine but he was holding something back. Charlie pressed further. “So why not give me material things?” 

“If your problem or desire was material I would have.” Spy shrugged off the question. “But what you wanted was sleep, I merely tried to give you a remedy and from the looks of it I think I succeeded.” Spy seemed a little smug about it but that was just his general demeanor. 

Charlie took a breath and chugged the rest of his bourbon for some liquid courage. He chose his next words carefully. “You remedy it a little but not before causing me a heart attack. I was so worried that I was invading something private when I listened to the music. Like it wasn't meant for me and it was just an unfortunate side effect.” Charlie let out a little sigh. He already regretted the words coming out of his mouth so going further into the deep end couldn’t hurt. “You only just recently started being nice to me, like you were playing mind games. I think you hated me like you hated Scout. Only tolerated me for the team. I don't understand why the sudden generosity.” Charlie almost felt sad by his words and instantly wanted to take them back the moment they left his mouth. If Spy didn’t hate him before he would certainly hate him now. Accusing him and drilling him for answers wasn't exactly a sure fire way to make friends with Spy. 

But Spy was only filled with concern, and a hint of nervousness and regret of his own. “It took a while to get used to you, I'll admit. You were such a recent and new addition to the team mon ami. I needed time to warm up but when I did I saw a funny and kind young man. A man with many secrets of his own hidden under a cheerful and shy demeanor. You are chaotic and loud much like Scout but you aren’t cocky, you are sure of your abilities. I saw an, admittedly, attractive young man getting used to life.” Spy drained the rest of his wine probably for his own liquid courage before continuing. “The old saying is boys tease when they like someone, well maybe my teasing is being a little rude, or a little distant. It doesn’t mean I hate you, quite the opposite in fact.” Charlie was sure Spy was blushing under the mask but it was nothing compared to the bright red that was Charlie’s face at this point. 

Spy called him attractive and not only that he liked him. He found the ratted and wild hair cute. He saw those steely grey eyes and considered them beautiful. Spy took a look at Charlie’s marred and scarred scrawny body and considered it handsome. 

Spy was a man of such high standards. With expensive clothes and wine. Charlie couldn’t be to his liking. But yet here they were. Two men who were a little but lost looking into each other's eyes waiting for one or the other to make the first move. 

The bourbon made Charlie brave so he stood up from his chair. Spy looked a little defeated by this and began to stand up on his own. But Charlie stopped him with a hand to his shoulder pushing him back into his chair. He looked in Spy’s steely blue eyes as his heart raced a mile a minute. Spy looked so confused and just a little bit flushed with his pupils blown wide. Charlie leaned more and ghosted his mouth over Spy’s lips. “For a man that makes a living on finding secrets you are really stupid.” Charlie punctuated the last of his statement with a kiss before Spy could protest. It was chaste and slow but it was filled with so much passion. 

Charlie cupped Spy’s face before he realized what he was doing and deepened the kiss. Coaxing Spy into parting his mouth so he could explore it. Spy let out a gasp when Charlie bit his lower lip in a display of passion and that moment of vulnerability allowed Charlie to plunge his tongue into Spy’s mouth. Exploring and tasting. 

He tasted like cloves, earth, a little but of musk from the red wine. Everything was so unbelievably Spy that it made Charlie’s heart stutter. 

Spy on his part was enjoying the kiss and grabbed at Charlie’s sides to deepen the kiss even further. At some point Spy pulled Charlie in even closer by his shirt and forced him into his lap. Charlie let out a loud gasp as he was being pulled down and stared at Spy with disbelief and undeniable attraction. Charlie sighed contentedly when he pulled away from Spy putting his hands on Spy’s chest. “I find you incredibly hot. And you are so nice to me it’s so good. I don't know what will happen or where this will take us but I want to enjoy it. Every minute of it.” Charlie gasped still a little bit, light headed from the kiss. 

He was still in Spy’s lap and gently Spy pushed him up to his feet. Charlie swayed a little bit but otherwise he was fine. Spy chuckled a little and walked over to his record player with his own shaky legs. “Any requests?” He asked. 

Without missing a beat Charlie was over to Spy. “La vie en Rose, please.” Charlie’s accent was garbage but Spy got the point and looked for the record. 

Once he found it he put it in on and pulled the needle down. The record scratched a little and the sound of a soft and melodic voice filled the smoke room. Spy turned it down a little bit and turned back to Charlie holding his hand out. “I don't want to be too forward but I would like to dance. Or you can sit in the chair next to the fire place. Or lay in bed. Or you can just leave your choice.” Spy the ever suave man was nervous and excited for Charlie’s response. 

Charlie tossed his blanket to the chair and grabbed Spy’s hand who pulled him into his chest. “A dance would mean the world to me to be honest. Then i would love to fall asleep in bed with you.” Charlie leaned into Spy and laid his head to his shoulder. Letting the music flow and sway through them. 

It wasn't really dancing, it was more swaying to the music but it was still nice. At some point Charlie pulled his head up and tried to lean up to Spy and get him to take the hint. Spy did indeed take the hint and leaned down to give Charlie another kiss. It stays soft and slow but still sensual as the music played. They continued to sway and flow for a while until Charlie let out a rather loud yawn. It did not escape Spy so he pulled Charlie towards the bed on the left most side of the room. 

It was massive and blue with silk sheets and a thread count in the thousands. It looked like heaven to Charlie and the happily obliged as he wrapped his arms around Spy and brought him down with him in the bed. 

Charlie could stay like this forever wrapped in Spy’s arm on a massive bed that was basically a cloud. 

Spy pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and Charlie in his haze realized Spy on turned off the lights and turned the music down more. Spy also removed his pants, tie, and shirt for a tee shirt in favour of getting more comfortable. “I understand the mask but i promise i won't hurt you.” Charlie mumbled. He suddenly realized how tired he was and it took all he had to keep his eyes open. 

Spy hummed in thought and pulled his mask off. Charlie let out a whop and raised his fist in the air rooting for maskless Spy. He was unbelievably hot without the mask. The salt and pepper hair, the tanned skin, the way his eyes could bore in Charlie’s soul even more. 

Spy pulled up the covers and shimmied into them. Charlie hesitated. “I hope you don't mind but I’m gonna sleep on top of the covers with my own blanket.” Begrudgingly Charlie got up and grabbed his blanket from the back of Spy’s chair. Pulled it over him and jumped into the bed. 

But Spy wasn’t rude about it, instead he understood it very well. “It’s ok mi amor. I get it.” Spy pulled an arm from under the covers and wrapped it around Charlie who snuggled into it. He was still a little weary but he was getting more and more comfortable. 

Yeah he could get behind this. 

And in his last moments of consciousness Charlie smiled and realized. ‘Everything is ok and Spy loves me too’ 

Charlie fell asleep in bliss and he was pretty sure Spy did too.


End file.
